of him, but with a powerful grip lifted up the kneeling steward to his feet and shrieked in a hollow voice into his ear, “If you ever dare go a-courting again to the parsonage you sign your own death-warrant!” Without another word the weird apparition stalked with long, slow strides towards the village.
Meanwhile Vlček rushing, breathless, to the village square overtook the night watchman. Together they called out half the village. The more courageous ventured out, taking clubs and flails, while the sexton ran to the church to get some consecrated object.
They took him in their midst and started towards the parish wood. At the edge of the village they caught sight of the tall white specter striding along slowly, not to the town, but obliquely over the meadows towards the graveyard. For an instant they paused, but then with shouts encouraging each other to boldness they advanced in one body after the white figure which, observing them, speeded up its steps.
Suddenly, however, the specter began to run and on the bridge vanished completely from their eyes. They started after it now with more fearlessness. At the bridge they stopped.
“Something white is lying here!” they shouted.
The sexton made the sign of the cross above the bridge and when after pronouncing the words, “Praise ye all the good spirit of the Lord,” no response was made, one of the peasants stepped closer and saw that it was only a dress lying there. With his club he
